The path to our new life took us west, across the entire state of New York. The town called Lewiston lay between Buffalo and Niagara Falls, where only the Niagara River separated runaway slaves from freedom. My Uncle Namekaa, his Iroquois wife, and my older cousin Genessee would be just a few miles from us, on the Tuscarora Reservation. The aunties enrolled me in St. Stephen’s Catholic School as a charity case. As long as I remained in school, we would not be required to move to the reservation, and I would not be the target of slave catchers. We were safe in Lewiston. 

         The Sisters of Charity allowed us to live in an unused caretaker’s cottage at the back of the school in exchange for work of all s...

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